Page 89 of Mutual Discord

“Good idea.” I immediately grabbed my phone, typing a short text to Alex’s sister.

Thankfully, she replied in seconds.

Camila: Yeah, he was here. Is everything okay? He looked really upset.

Exhaling, I wrote: I fucked up. Do you know where he went? I really need to speak with him.

Flashing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times, and I held my breath as I waited to see if Camila would tell me Alex’s location. I could understand if she said no, but oh, how I hoped she would.

Camila: Echo Canyon Trail. He said he needed to get outside and burn away some stress.

Sofia: Thank you. I appreciate you sharing, even though I’m sure you’re worried about your brother.

Camila: I am…but I suspect you are, too. So go make things right.

Slowly rising to my feet, I held out a hand to Caitlin and helped her stand. “Well, it looks like I’m going on a hike.”

“A hike? On New Year’s Day?” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Better you than me.”

“Exactly.” I reached out to squeeze her arm.

Caitlin rolled her eyes before she shoved me toward my closet. “Alex was never my man, but I think he would love to be yours. Now, go get him.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Somehow I made it to the Echo Canyon Trailhead within twenty minutes. There were more cars in the parking lot than I was anticipating for a holiday morning, but thankfully I managed to locate Alex’s SUV easily. After parking mine next to it, I stashed my water bottle and cell phone in my utility pack, tied my hair in a ponytail, threw on a U of A ball cap, and set off up the trail in search of Alex.

The first quarter of a mile passed quickly until I hit a queue of hikers at a steep incline littered with rocks and boulders. Suppressing my annoyance at the hikers who maneuvered and scrambled over the terrain—I hated walking, driving, or doing anything at someone else’s pace—I sucked air through my teeth and searched the faces of the people in front of me. Alex was not among them, but then I didn’t expect him to be, considering he had arrived much earlier than I had. I figured my best bet was to catch him on his way back down the mountain. That knowledge gave me a bit of comfort.

Still, another fifteen minutes ticked by with me being trapped behind a group of slower-paced hikers, and anytime I attempted to pass them on the left, hikers heading down the mountain blocked the path.

“This is why you can never climb Mt. Everest,” I grumbled under my breath.

I needed to stay calm. Alex would have to pass me at some point on the trail, whether I was stuck behind these slow-ass hikers or not. My anxiety, however, was urging me to walk faster, desperate for the burn in my muscles that would crowd out the worry. Everything was a bit more manageable after a good workout.

After a handful of minutes, I needed a break. Traffic on the Echo Canyon Trail was to be expected in the winter months, but this was ridiculous. Stepping to the side of a shallow outcropping, I pulled my water bottle from my pack and took a guzzle. Other hikers passed with nods, but I wanted to create some distance between me and the slower hikers who were testing my sanity.

A wave of nausea abruptly crashed over me, and I was reminded that I had been out drinking and dancing the night before. What a terrible New Year’s Day this was turning out to be.

Eventually, I stored my water and struck out again on the trail. I still hadn’t seen Alex, but he had to be up here somewhere.

I timed my pace to correspond with a pair of hikers in front of me. They were young, perhaps Arizona State co-eds, and their rhythm was neither too fast nor too slow, and my anxiety settled into a gentle simmer instead of a rolling boil. I kept a respectable distance behind them, but when one of the women needed to tie her shoelace, she stepped off the trail to allow me to pass.

“Thank you,” I murmured, moving around them when a distinct sound reverberated through the air. The unmistakable rattle made the blood freeze in my veins.

A rattlesnake was close by.

“Everyone stay absolutely still,” I ordered, my gaze darting about while I tried to find the snake’s location. From my periphery, I noticed other hikers stumbling to a halt a distance away.

And that’s when I saw it. It was coiled beneath a collection of rocks and boulders only feet from the hiker who had stopped to tie her shoe. Rattlesnakes could jump up to half their body length, and based on this one’s thick coils, he was probably massive. My stomach dropped.

“Do you see him?” I asked the hiker, gesturing to the rattler with my chin.

She nodded, her green eyes owlish and her hands shaking.

I glanced around, looking for something to prod the snake with to encourage it to move along, when I spied a piece of broken mesquite branch on the ground not far from me.

“Continue to hold still,” I murmured as I slowly reached for the branch. The snake’s rattling didn’t pitch louder, which I considered a good thing.